I was on the train yesterday and couldn’t help but overhearing everyone’s conversation. And by “couldn’t help,” I mean they were so loud it was impossible not to. Each group of friends sounded more gossipy and superficial than the next. And I wasn’t judging, exactly—but I was noticing.
Noticing how much of what passes for “connection” isn’t really connection at all. It’s filler. It’s noise. It’s recap chatter about TV shows or celebrity gossip or work frustrations. And don’t get me wrong—I love a ridiculous TV recap as much as anyone. I’ll happily laugh about the absurdity of a dating show or the mess of some recent drama. But here’s the thing: I don’t leave those conversations feeling nourished. They’re fun, sure. But they don’t change me. They don’t root me more deeply in myself, or in life, or in another person.
We live in a world that is obsessed with connection while being terrified of actual intimacy. We have thousands of “friends” and followers. We can text, DM, voice note, FaceTime, post, share, perform all day long. And yet—how much of that is actually connective? How much of it actually nourishes your soul?
Most of it is distraction dressed up as intimacy.
We spend our lives skimming along the surface—recapping shows, trading gossip, analyzing others, processing endless small dramas. That’s not bad in itself. But when it becomes the dominant language of our relationships, it’s empty calories. It sustains nothing.
Depth is what makes a life worth living. Depth of connection to yourself. Depth of connection to others. Without it, you’re not really living.
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